


The Choices We Make

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When reality gets too difficult, sometimes it’s just easier to run away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choices We Make

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of thanks to mustbethursday3 for allowing me to use her as a sounding board. Written for a ag_fics challenge.

The sun turns the field golden and Arthur enjoys feeling its warmth against his skin. He grins as he spots Amhar running towards him. Gwen is coming up the hill behind him and Arthur’s pleased to see she has flowers in her hair and in her hands. A smile spreads across her face and she quickens her pace. Picking Amhar up with one arm, Arthur walks towards Gwen and wraps his other arm around her shoulders. He presses a kiss in her hair as Amhar giggles and gurgles nonsense. Below, they can see Camelot slowly waking to a new day. Life is perfect, Arthur thinks to himself as he pulls Gwen even closer.

Why would he ever give this up?

***  
Arthur watched in silent contemplation as the sun dipped below the White Mountains. Tomorrow, his knights would commence their march towards the Northern Plains where he knew Morgana’s army was waiting. This day had been a long time coming and they were as prepared as they could be. Failure to deal successfully with the impending attack was likely to mean the end of Camelot. It would also mean that all his sacrifice was for naught.

His eyes darted towards the large portrait hanging over the fireplace. It almost seemed that the young lady in the portrait was smiling at him, calling him to a better place. Perhaps ...

"Don't. I know what you're thinking."

Sighing, Arthur turned to Merlin. "Have you taken to spying on me now?"

"Camelot needs you."

"Do you think I don’t know that? My whole life, I've done whatever I thought Camelot needed," Arthur snapped, "and frankly, what was the point? I’ve done nothing but ruined everything my father achieved. Tomorrow could well be Camelot's last day."

"Arthur, you don't know what will happen tomorrow. We finally have the key to destroying Morgana forever and ..."

Arthur turned to the portrait again, tuning out Merlin’s chatter. After all he had done for Camelot, was he not entitled to a bit of happiness?

***  
Months of intermittent albeit weak attacks from Morgana had worn even the most optimistic soul down. Unsurprisingly, the announcement that their new king was taking a bride was viewed as a welcomed break from the gloom of the past few months. For the next few weeks, everyone could pretend that everything was normal and bask in the joy of welcoming a new queen. That the new queen was gorgeous beyond imagination contributed to the whole wedding fantasy. With great enthusiasm, the Great Hall was all decked out with flowers and banners by gossiping servants.

It was in this lavishly decorated room that Arthur found Gwen the night before the wedding. Standing directly under the stained glass windows, she was enveloped in moonlight, her skin luninous in the soft light. Painfully aware that this might be his last moments with Gwen, he tried to draw it out. He hovered at the entrance, allowing his eyes to linger on her, desperately trying to commit her image to his memory. In her stillness, she looked like an angel. He must have made a sound because she turned slowly to face him. There was a brightness in her eyes and a sheen on her face as she looked silently at him. Tentatively, he took a step towards her, afraid she would run. But she didn’t.

He closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to cup her face. At his touch, her eyes flutter close, her breathing roughen and he felt her tremble slightly. There was so much he wanted to say, to explain, to apologise but he didn’t have the words. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek and he watched it with a breaking heart. Without thinking, he dipped his head and kissed the trail the tear took, tasting her skin, enjoying the feel of it under his lips. One last time, he told himself. She leaned into him, her head falling back allowing him access to her neck where he suckled greedily.

One last time.

She moaned and slipped her hands under his shirt.

He kissed her lips as he tugged her closer, pressing his hardness against her.

Her hands pulled at his breeches.

His hips thrust against hers.

They clung to each other, sadness and desperation driving their every movement. No words were spoken. There was too much to say and no words to express them. The only sounds that could be heard in the emptiness of the Great Hall were their slight gasps and moans. She bit her lips to stop from shouting out when he slammed into her as his fingers rubbed against her clit. He buried his cries in her hair.

***  
“Merlin said you were busy planning tomorrow’s attack.” Her fingers swept his fringe away from his face and he just managed to stop himself from flinching.

Merlin had barely left the room before her maid had come running, insisting Lady Katherine wanted to see him. He could have refused but he could do without more conflict tonight.

She pressed herself closer to him, her arms slipping around his neck. Many had claimed she was the most beautiful queen in all the lands and he supposed they were right. But he didn’t want the most beautiful queen. She placed a kiss on him and he closed his eyes, willing himself not to push her away.

“You’re thinking about her again.” Bitterness laced her voice and guilt tinged with anger welled up in him.

“I never promised to love you,” he stated flatly, “our marriage is one of political expediency. You know I will always love her.”

“I know about your trips.”

He stared at her in shock.

“Did you think I was stupid? I followed you that night. I watched you walk into that portrait, that portrait of her. Lynda asked her grandmother about it. I know what it is. She’s there, isn’t she?”

Fear gripped his heart. Had Katherine walked into the portrait too? Had she seen what he saw? Experienced what he experienced? Could she even get in?

“Can’t you see it is a trap? Why would something like that turn up like this, just as you were winning the war against Morgana? Is she worth it Arthur? Is having her, a common-born servant girl worth losing Camelot? Because if -”

“Shut up!” Did she think he never asked himself these questions? Night after night, he tortured himself with questions he had no answers to.

“My father is not stupid either Arthur.” Her voice went cold, “He thought once that you would unite Albion to become it’s greatest king, but Morgana has been more than a thorn in your side. He will withdraw his men tomorrow morning and his knights will come and get me. I did not marry you to be part of a crumbling empire.”

Burying his face in his hands, he sat himself on the bed. An arm curled around him and she spoke again, this time with more warmth. “Come with me Arthur. Camelot is a lost cause. My father can protect us. We can make this marriage work and when my father goes, you will be King of his lands.”

He laughed bitterly at her words. Did she think Camelot could simply be replaced? The same way he replaced Gwen with her, he supposed.

“I told her to leave. I told her she was too much of a distraction to you.”

It took all his willpower not to scream at her.

***  
The portrait was a gift left with one of the knights patrolling the borders. When questioned, he claimed to remember nothing except being left with the portrait. The first time Arthur lay eyes on the portrait, he had demanded it be locked up in the castle dungeons. It must have been someone's idea of a sick joke to present him with a portrait of Guinevere. Busy with drawing up plans to rebuild the lower town and reorganising the knights, he thought no more of it for the rest of the day.

But that night, as he lay in bed, he thought he could hear Gwen’s voice calling him.

Something made him walk into the portrait that night.

It was Camelot but different. The sun was shining brilliantly and the people were laughing, chatting and going about their business. Children played on the roads. No one had weariness or fear in their eyes. Buildings looked sturdy and upright. There was no rubble, no damaged property that desperately needed fixing.

And there was Gwen, smiling as she spoke to an elderly store-keeper. A young boy clung to her legs, a thumb in his mouth.

Was this the future? A future in which he had finally defeated Morgana once and for all and Camelot was again at peace? A future in which Gwen had moved on and lived happily?

“Dada!”

He froze when Gwen looked up at him. Happiness twinkled in her eyes as she bent down and whispered something into the little boy’s ear. Uncertainly at first, the boy let go of Gwen’s leg and toddled towards him.

“Dada!” The boy hugged his leg, flashing a gummy smile at him. Gwen followed behind. His heart shattered. This was his dream. A dream he could never have.

“I thought you had a pile of paperwork to do or have you bullied Merlin into finishing them for you?” There was no hint of awkwardness or anger or sadness in her voice, only fond amusement.

“Well,” he was at a loss for words but Gwen took no notice as she bent down and picked up the young boy.

“Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful and carry Amhar. He’s been whining about walking for a while now.” With the ease of a mother, she placed the boy into his arms. She smiled as she looked at the two of them. Reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair, she sighed in pleasure, “he looks so much like you. One day, he’ll be as wonderful a king as his father.”

Everything changed that day. It was almost like he had a second chance at life - a chance to undo all the bad decisions he made. So he kept going back. First it was once every few days. But soon it became an addiction and he started to go every day, staying longer and longer each time. There he ruled a peaceful Camelot with Gwen by his side. She was pregnant again with their second child and Amhar was growing into a strong, smart boy. It was everything he wanted. It was the only thing that kept him going in the increasing darkness of his own reality.

Like everything in his life, Merlin soon found out about his little trips into the portrait. He tried to show Merlin the perfection that world was but it soon transpired that only he could enter the portrait.

“That is not real Arthur. You cannot keep hiding there. You even missed the last attack Morgana launched! Thank goodness Lancelot was around to command the knights.”

“Maybe Lancelot should be king then!” he retorted before calming down a little, “I can’t help it, Merlin. Do you know how it feels to know that I have no chance of that reality? Do you know how much it tears me apart when I think about that? But when I’m there, everything is perfect. Gwen is my queen and we have a son, a lovely, smart son. We have another on the way too! Camelot is thriving and the people are content. And then I have to come back and see a Camelot torn up by Morgana’s selfish war and I have to go to bed with someone who’s not Gwen. Tell me why I shouldn’t just stay there.”

“Because it’s not real! You are King. You cannot just leave Camelot here to die so you can play around in some fantasy world!”

In the end, Arthur agreed to stop his visits but he refused Merlin’s suggestion that the portrait be brought back to the dungeons. What harm would it do to have Gwen smiling down at him in his room?

***  
When Uther was still alive but out of his mind, Arthur once took Gwen for a picnic. He hadn’t had much time with her and he missed her. She was busy running errands for various people in the castle and he had to deal with ruling in the place of his father.

“Surely you have more important things to do,” she mused as she helped him lay out the food from the kitchens.

He laughed as he played with a curl, twisting it around his finger, “nothing is more important than you.” He knew he said the right thing when she dropped the grapes and pushed him onto the ground, capturing his lips with hers. Their giggles filled the air and Arthur felt confident that as long as he had Gwen by his side, anything was possible.

They ate, they joked and they kissed. Arthur thought it was the perfect day.

“How many children would you like?”

“Arthur! Aren’t you moving a little fast?”

Ignoring her, he continued, “I think two at the very least. I hated being an only child.”

“You had Morgana,” she covered her mouth as soon as the words slipped out. Morgana’s betrayal still stung and he simply grunted in response, unwilling to let thoughts of his sister ruin the day.

Gwen cupped his face and gazed earnestly at him, “we won’t make the same mistakes your father did.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I have faith in us.”

***  
“Lord Rowan is here to see you. He says he has a proposition.” The knight bowed before taking his leave.

“Sire. I understand that Lady Morgana has been quite a pain in your side for some months. You have barely recovered from her last attack and I hear rumours she’s planning another one.”

Arthur looked sceptically at Lord Rowan, wondering if he was going to suggest, like many others had before him, that they use dark magic in the fight against Morgana. It had been almost a year since his father had died and despite Arthur’s offer of a truce, Morgana was still determined to destroy Camelot. If she couldn’t have it, no one could. And while he had successfully repelled every attack of hers since, he knew it could not go on forever. Merlin had discovered that she was employing the dark arts in her quest for Camelot which explained how she managed to continue to attack him ever so often. The only way to stop her was if Merlin was able to discover the source of her magic.

“I have a suggestion Sire. My daughter, Katherine, is of marriageable age. She is well brought up, knows the ins and outs of court and beautiful …”

“At a time like this, I have no intention of getting married,” Arthur growled at the man, amazed that in a time of war, he dared talk about such things.

“More importantly, she comes with 10 000 fighting fit men,” Lord Rowan looked meaningfully at Arthur, “and lots of resources from my lands. With that, you can continue to repel Morgana’s dark forces for a while yet.”

As usual, dinner is taken with Gwen and Merlin. In the middle, Arthur mentioned as casually as possible Lord Rowan’s proposition. Merlin was the first to react, immediately rejecting the idea as ludicrous. Gwen said nothing as she kept her attention focused on her meal.

“It’s a silly plan anyway,” Arthur muttered as he walked Gwen back to her house. Although he had a room in the castle kept for her, she often insisted on going back to her home in the middle town. It was home she told him. He would retort that one day, the castle was going to be her home.

“You know it’s not Arthur.” She stopped and took his hands in hers, “Camelot is more important than us. You need to think of everyone who lives under your protection, not just you and me. The extra men and resources are not something you can just reject.”

He stayed over at her place that night, arguing, fighting and eventually loving each other. The next morning, he accepted Lord Rowan’s proposal.

***  
It was almost dawn. Two more hours before his army marched against Morgana’s. Arthur got no sleep that night. Merlin had finally found the source of her power and this was his one chance to defeat Morgana once and for all. But with his weakened forces, there was a huge possibility that it could go very badly. And Gwen was leaving. He was too cowardly to go see her. What right did he have anyway to ask her to stay? If they lost tomorrow, he would have nothing. Despair settled with unfortunate familiarity on his shoulders.

Edgy, he unsheathed his sword and practiced some moves. Then, he made the mistake of looking up.

The portrait beckoned.

No.

Come. Gwen is here. Amhar is here.

No.

You are happy here. Your own Gwen has left you. She’s going away.

I can’t. Camelot needs me.

Gwen is waiting for you. Your sons are waiting for you. Camelot is waiting for you.

The words slid seductively over him and dropping his sword, he allowed himself to be seduced.

***  
The sun turns the field golden and Arthur enjoys feeling its warmth against his skin. He grins as he spots Amhar running towards him. Gwen is coming up the hill behind him and Arthur’s pleased to see she has flowers in her hair and in her hands. A smile spreads across her face and she quickens her pace. Picking Amhar up with one arm, Arthur walks towards the very pregnant Gwen and wraps his other arm around her shoulders. He presses a kiss in her hair as Amhar giggles and gurgles nonsense. Below, they can see Camelot slowly waking to a new day. Life is perfect, Arthur thinks to himself as he pulls Gwen even closer.

“Arthur! Arthur Pendragon!”

A voice floats over to him. It sounds like Gwen but Gwen is pressed up against him and silent. Convinced he is hearing things, he turns his attention to Amhar who is pulling at his hair.

“Arthur!”

He squints in the direction of the voice and he can see Gwen, or someone who looks exactly like her, walking towards him.

Gwen tugs at his arm and whispers, “We should go back. I have a surprise for you.”

He is too confused to move and continues to watch as the figure approaches him. The tugging increases in intensity.

“Arthur, let’s go. I’m tired.”

“Right, yes.” He turns away and starts to walk with Gwen back to the castle. Amhar gurgles in his ear and plays with his hair. Footsteps are coming closer and Gwen seems to be moving faster and faster towards the castle.

“Arthur!” The voice is closer now and he turns. In front of him, panting is Gwen. He looks to his right and standing beside him, looking very angry is also Gwen. But this Gwen in front of him is thinner, her face strained and he knows that she is the Gwen from his reality. He lets go of the other Gwen and puts Amhar down.

“Guinevere,” he steps closer to her. He hasn’t seen her in months. There are dark circles around her eyes and he can see she’s trembling. “How did you get here?”

Portrait Gwen snaps, “She’s a fake, dear. Let us go back to our life.”

“I don’t know. Merlin asked me to try and somehow I could. He still can’t. Arthur, you need to come back with me. We are on the verge of victory against Morgana. We need you.” Her pleas are desperate and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

“Don’t listen to her. You’re happy here. You have everything you ever wanted.”

“Is this what you want Arthur? A fake life with a fake me? A life you did nothing to achieve?”

Amhar starts to cry and Arthur moves to pick him up. As he cradles Amhar to him, he looks at portrait Gwen. He glances around at Camelot. Everything is perfect here. It would be so easy to stay. Portrait Gwen reads him well and she curls her fingers around his hand. She pulls him into a kiss and while Arthur does not respond, he can feel the tension from Gwen.

“You once told me that you wanted to earn the respect of your knights and people through your hard work. You wanted them to look up to you because you deserved it and not because you were born a prince. And I loved you for that. If you want to be King of Camelot, if you want a Camelot that is peaceful like this, then come back and fight for it.”

He hesitates. Amhar cries even louder.

“I can’t, Gwen. There is nothing back there for me …” he walks slowly away.

“Nothing? What about your knights? What about Merlin? What about your people? You are a coward Arthur Pendragon and to think I once thought you were the bravest man I knew. Did you think I threw away my own happiness so that you could run away and play house with a fake me? I did it for Camelot and if you won’t come back and fight for her, I will because I am not going to let Camelot go down without a fight.”

“Let’s go darling,” portrait Gwen purrs into his ear as he watches Gwen stalk off, “things are so much better here.” She takes Amhar from him and turns away, confident he will follow her.

Arthur stands in his place, torn.

***  
Merlin paces along the Northern Plains, looking at what’s left of Camelot’s army. No matter what he said, morale was low. Lord Rowan had recalled his men, severely reducing their numbers. The core knights tries to rally their men but there is an unspoken consensus that their King had abandoned them.

Gwen comes up beside him and watches the knights ready themselves for battle.

“Why are you here? You should go back to Camelot. It’ll be safer there.”

“No. Camelot’s my home. I let Arthur bear all the pressure of this war alone before. I walked away because it was easier than to fight for us. I’m not going to walk away from Camelot as well. I may not be able to fight as well, but there’s a lot I can do.”

Merlin squeezes her hand.

She smiles sadly, tears glistening in her eyes, “I don’t think Arthur is coming back Merlin.”

“There’s still time. He may yet come. Have faith.”


End file.
